When they reached Hagrid's Hut, Allen realized that he and Slughorn were the last to arrive.
Inside Hagrid's Hut, Penelope was holding a sharp carving knife and slicing the lamb, which had been boiled until it was about three-quarters done. In the clearing in front of the hut, the great cauldron had been set up, bubbling away, lamb bones rolling inside it. The broth had already simmered into a milky white, and a rich aroma drifted out, tinged faintly with the gaminess of mutton.
Seeing Professor Slughorn come in with Allen, Hermione looked at Harry in astonishment—Slughorn had actually come to Hagrid's.
"Felix Felicis doesn't make mistakes," Harry said quietly to himself. He looked at Professor Slughorn and clenched his fist. Tonight, he would definitely finish the assignment Dumbledore had given him.
Slughorn seemed to sense Harry's determined gaze. His casual look froze when he saw that messy black hair and those large round glasses. Frowning, he turned his eyes away. He had been avoiding Harry Potter all this time, and had not expected to run into him here. Only, with so many people present this time, and having already agreed to Allen's invitation, it would be awkward for him to leave outright.
"Professor," Harry greeted Slughorn warmly, but did not go over.
Slughorn forced out a smile and nodded to Harry, then turned his attention to Hagrid.
"Hagrid," Slughorn said in a low, solemn voice, "I heard about your situation from Professor Harris. I am very sorry. Please accept my condolences."
"Slug... Horace! It's good of you to come!" Hagrid's huge hand wiped at the corner of his eye. "That's very kind of you."
Penelope watched the scene with some distaste, rather annoyed. The half-giant had finally stopped crying after Harry had come over and described what had happened,